March to the Sea - Empire of Man Book II

"Good," Pahner said.

Rastar slid off his civan and moaned.

"I'd kill to be able to take off this armor," he groaned, and Honal grunted in laughter.

"You Therdan people are too soft. A mere forty kolong, and you're complaining!"

"Uh-huh," the prince replied. "Tell me you're not in pain."

"Me?" the cavalry commander said. "I think I'm going to die, as a matter of fact. Why?"

Rastar chuckled and rubbed his posterior gingerly while he looked at the stream.

"Thank goodness for accurate maps," he said. "I never appreciated them properly before."

"Yes, knowing where to water and where to hide-as opposed to where to fight-is very important," Honal said a bit tartly.

"Don't worry, cousin," Rastar told him. "There'll be plenty of fighting before this is done. Send back skirmishers with a communicator. Have them find the Boman, but tell them not to get too close. Just give them a few shots to sting them, then pull back. Make sure they have plenty of remounts and know where to go." He pulled out his map and studied its markings. "The turnoff for the first group is just ahead, and I especially want to know if the Boman split up when we do."

"Will do," Honal agreed. "I still say this plan is too complicated, though. Splitting ourselves up is crazy."

"We need to keep the Boman interested until it's time to lead them back home again," Rastar said, not looking up from the map, "and Boman are simple sorts. If we just run in a straight line, they may lose interest and start heading back too soon. That would be bad. But if we run all over the countryside like headless basik, their uncomplicated little souls should find the puzzle irresistible and keep them coming right behind us. We hope."

"Can I still not like it?"

"Yes ... as long as you do it. And speaking of doing, it's time to go."

Fresh civan had been brought up from their string of spares while the officers talked, and Honal looked up at the towering expanse of his new mount with a sour expression.

"I don't know if I can climb clear up there," he groaned.

"Here, let me give you a boost," Rastar offered. "You Sheffan super-trooper, you."

Camsan cursed.

"Another group splitting off!" he complained.

"And in a whole different direction," Dna pointed out. "They must have cut their numbers by half with all this scattering."

"Hard to tell," the war leader said. "They're keeping in line to confuse our trackers about numbers, but I think you're right-there are fewer headed toward Therdan than there were."

The Boman leader rubbed a horn in thought.

"Have all of the messengers reported back yet?" he asked.

"All but the one to Hothna Kasi," Dna replied. "He had the farthest to go, but he should have arrived there by midnight of last night." The other Boman glanced up at the overcast, estimating the time. "By now, all of them should be on the trail."

"Good," Camsan grunted, "because that means all this splitting and scattering isn't going to do them any good in the end. It's just going to break them up into even smaller bits and pieces when our warriors finally start catching up with them. But I think we need to split off some parties of our own to go directly after these groups. I want to know where they're all really headed."

"Break up ourselves?" the scout leader asked.

"Yes. This isn't like the iron heads," the war leader said quietly. "They're being more devious than normal, and I smell a trap. Something, somewhere, is going on. Something big."